Sunrise, sunset
by Bodaciousbagel
Summary: Ooooh. This seemed like a much better idea when I wrote it. Nonetheless, something has happened and Toris can't remember anything that's happened. Chapters to come. Hopefully gets more depressing as I write, as it's not depressing now.
1. You're manic or you're depressed

Why? Why why why? I am the accursed one. All I ever write ever are Soviet fics. /stoned  
Anyway, here's some more of your distraught, heart-wrenching, lonely crap that this bright and upbeat person seems so keen on writing.  
Thanks to everyone that faved my other stories, and everyone that (for some reason) put a watch on me. Oh, and thanks for the hate mail, too.

This is going to be in chapters. Just…just so you know. I'm not lazy and only writing part of the story, don't worry.

* * *

**These minutes have been recorded for investigational purposes. The speaker on the tape agreed to be investigated, and allowed recoding to take place on March 15, 1992. All minutes have been transposed to writing for ease of accessibility. Sounds on the tapes, other than voices, have been set off by hyphens. The interviewer's words have been placed in bold font. The interviewer begins the session.**

**Tape begins at 1300 hours.**

**-sounds of a chair scraping across the floor-**

**-man clears his throat-**

**So, tell me what it was like. Living in that household. What did you do?**

It was like this; I woke, I worked, I slept, woke, work, slept. This was life. This was hell. Not the average perception of hell, true. One would normally associate hell with flames and pitchforks, not snowstorms and paperwork. And, all things considered, my life probably was _a little _better than living in hell. But honestly, what was the difference? The location? The people? No…

It was her. She was what made it different. Her crystal hair, those big, violet eyes, that sparkling white smirk…

But, I digress.

The place was hell, just colder. Much colder. It was as cold as a cup of hot chocolate that had been placed in the freezer for three days.

**-laughs-**

Cold.

And so nonsensical. So…redundant. If a lifestyle can be called such. My routine was so patterned, so precise, that there were permanent tread marks in the carpet. I took the same steps, everyday, at the same times, everyday. No nonsense. Nothing different.

**Did you like it?**

Don't get me wrong; organization and routine are two very important things. Without them, where would we be? Back in the Stone Age, I suppose. Living without proper stoves or brooms even, the thought! But this, this was just torture. The good kind of torture. The…less painful kind.

I would say, 'Here, let me describe this one particular day to you!', but every day was so similar, the one I describe could be from any day, of any month, of any number of years. You wouldn't know the difference, would you?

Six-fifteen, on the dot. That was when I would awake. I would slither out of bed, and rush to cram on as many layers of clothing as was humanly possible. (Three shirts, two pairs of slacks, four pairs of socks, two sweaters, two pairs of gloves, some earmuffs, two hats, and a pair of boots.) Then, still frozen to the bone, I would start a fire in the kitchen fireplace. Once I had defrosted, I turned my attention to breakfast.

Eight-thirty, exactly, breakfast was on the table, the kitchen was cleaned, fires were in all the rooms, and clothes had been laid out for the day. Eduard and Ravis entered the kitchen, finished with their morning duties.

Ivan and his sisters would stroll in around nine, if we were lucky. And after an awkwardly quiet meal, (as were all meals in that house, I came to realize) we were off to the races.

I'll spare you the boring details. Needless to say, I cleaned like my life depended on it. Which it did. And by the time I went to bed, I had been awake for more than twenty hours, cleaned the house three times over, done stacks of paperwork, cooked three meals, and somehow managed to repair ripped clothing or shovel the sidewalk. Exhausting? Yes.

Perhaps I didn't notice how wonderful it all actually was. No, I didn't. But I do now, now that it's all over. I had stability. I had something to occupy me. And, I had that dirtiest of all dirty words; family. Not everyone in the house considered our situation to be a family one, but sometimes, it certainly did feel like it.

We occasionally had our days. Ivan would drag us outside for a snowball fight, or we would all gather in the library to read. Ivan, bless his soul, had tried to organize a family game night once, but that…ultimately ended in disaster.

My life was a living hell, don't mistake the facts. But it was a hell with a tiny, miniscule piece of heaven.

She was the one that created the heaven, I just know it. It must have been her…

**Who? **

I…I have this written down somewhere… hang on.

**-papers shuffle-**

I try to remember what she was like. Blonde, beautiful. Didn't smile often. But that was alright. I knew she loved me…

Everyone always says that you don't realize what you have until it's gone. That's not true. I knew she was amazing. I knew I couldn't live without her. Even today, I realize how valuable she is.

Of course, her image…isn't as vivid as it used to be.

I try to recall how it felt when she walked by. The air swished. Her scent lingered. She was the type of woman that left her presence in the room, even after she had left. I could feel her always. Once, she came into my room to ask a favor. As she talked, her hands fidgeted with a pen on my desk.

I can still smell her on it today.

I know, _I know_, I loved her. And it was because…because…

Why?

Oh, hell. I reminded myself to write this down…

**-papers shuffling- **

….To be quite honest, I don't remember _why_ I loved her. I can't recall one pleasant conversation we ever had. B-but I'm sure there were some! Many.

Lots…

**Here. Take a look at this. **

What? What…is this?

**Describe it.**

It's…a picture. Of a family. They look rather…discombobulated.

**Do you recognize anyone in the picture?**

Myself. There's Ravis and Eduard, there beside me. And that looming man is Ivan. That girl, the small one there, frowning. That's her.

She's even more beautiful than I remember…

Where did you find this?

**We have our ways. Do you remember when this was taken?**

Right before it was all over. You can tell because we're all tired and frail looking.

…what was her name?

**Do you not remember?**

…no.

**But you remember all the other names?**

I do.

What happened? Why…why can't I remember her?

**Do you not remember?**

…no.

**Then you should read this.**

**-papers shuffle-**

-**dead air for a few seconds as the papers are read-**

I…

Can we take a break? I need to get some air…

**Sure.**

**Tape ends at 25 after 1300 hours.**

**

* * *

**BAHAHAHAHA.  
That was short. XD  
I can guarantee at least one more chapter. But if this is total shit, then that's it.  
143 3


	2. Will you ever feel okay?

Part two. Whoop-dee-doo.  
You wanna hear something totally retarded? I have no clue where I was even going with this story.  
Good planning, huh?

* * *

**Tape restarts at 1400 hours.**

**Let's try this again. Do you remember?**

No…but…

Is it true?

**Is what true?**

This.

That…the girl. She's dead?

**It's true. **

What happened?

**Do you not remember?**

No, damn it! I don't remember anything! Please tell me!

**You're here to tell us what you remember. Not the other way around.**

What was her name?

Oh, don't shake your head at me. You can't even say what her name was?

**No. Sorry.**

No you're not…

Well, what the hell do you want me to say now?

**Whatever you want to say. It's your interview.**

Look, I can't remember anything. Can't you just…give me a hint? Start me off?

**Maybe some gentle prodding won't hurt…**

**Three months ago, you visited a mental institution. Do you remember why?**

Yeah. To visit…this woman.

I knew her, but I don't remember how. She was blonde. Had pretty eyes…

When she saw me, she hugged me so tightly, I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head.

She kept whispering something, the entire time I was there.

**What?**

I don't know. It was in a different language. Not any language I know.

Though…I feel as if I used to know it…

**-man clears his throat-**

Anyway, she wouldn't let go of my hand. I tried to pry her off, but she wouldn't budge. Kept whispering, kept holding on.

She looked lost. She looked tired.

She looked vacant. Like something had been ripped out of her.

**Is this the woman you visited?**

Yes. That's her.

**Let it be recorded that subject recognizes Ms. Yekaterina.**

Who?

**That's not important. Tell me why you went to visit this woman.**

Oh, well you see, I found this letter. In one of my books.

**-papers shuffle-**

It has the address of the mental hospital.

**Who wrote it?**

It's in my handwriting, so… I did, I suppose.

**You just did what the letter told you to do? **

Yes?

**Why? Do you even remember writing this note? And how did you write it if you didn't even know the woman you were visiting?**

It seemed…safe. Trustworthy.

I wouldn't lie to myself, would I?

And I just had the strangest feeling when I found it. As if I had some sort of task to accomplish.

**What did you do before you found the note?**

Ate a sandwich.

…**I meant the days before that.**

Oh. I went to the store. And cooked some dinner. And…

**And?**

Can I ask you something?

**Depends.**

Why can't I remember anything before about three days ago?

**You don't remember your childhood?**

No, I remember _that_. I mean, the past week. It's just a blur.

**Read this.**

_**Out loud.**_

Oh.

'…police found four hostages at the house. All four appeared to have suffered from several beatings, as they were covered in gashes and welts, healed and not. Police Chief Dhrumweld commented, "It wasn't pretty. The house had been trashed, there was blood everywhere. When we got to the scene, all the residents were outside on the porch. The suspect was standing behind them, smirking. Tell you what, it was the creepiest thing I've ever seen." Police proceeded to speak to the suspect, asking for release of the hostages. "And when the guy refused, we pulled out our weapons. And then he jumped out at us," Dhrumweld said, "I'm proud of my men. In the face of sure danger, they took down the bastard. Took 'em down hard. Now those people are free, and at the end of the day, that's all I really care about."'

I remember this. It was all over the news.

**Remember it? You should.**

What?

**You where **_**there.**_

I…I…

**-loud thud as subject falls out of chair-**

**Shit. Jenkins!  
**

**Tape ends at 1430 hours.**

**

* * *

**It just gets shorter and shorter as it goes!  
What's her plot? Nobody knows!

3 Hugs kisses bagel


	3. Your lover is an actress

At this point, I would love to say Merry Christmas, but I'm slightly afraid that someone might be offended. You know what the world is coming to. So, instead, I'll say Merry Christmas, Happy (late) Hanukah, Happy Ramadan, Happy winter solstice, and Merry/Happy whatever else you celebrate.

* * *

**Tape restarts at 800 hours.**

**...and I swear to God, I can't figure out why. Damn. How do you make this thing start recording?**

_It already is. Red light means recording, numbskull._

**Shut the hell up.**

**-man chuckles-**

_So why the hell are you interviewing this guy anyway? Isn't that a rookie job?__  
_  
**Yeah, but I need the extra money. All's I gotta do is sit here and listen. Piece of cake.**

**-door opens and closes-**

**Oh, good, you're here. Sit.**

_Catch up with you later._

**-door opens and closes-**

**So, you ready to try this again?**

Yes.

**You nice and rested from your little nap yesterday?**

**-man snickers-**

Can we just continue?

**Sure.**

...well?

**Oh. Right.**

**So, you don't remember being involved with this story?**

No. I...I was one of the hostages in that house?

**Indeed you were.**

And this house in the news story, it was Ivan's house?

**Sure was.**

So...Ivan was the suspect in the story?

**Nice deduction, Mr. Detective.**

You don't want to be interviewing me, do you?

**What was your first clue?**

The sudden change in attitude from yesterday to today.

**That was a rhetorical question.**

**Can you tell me what the inconsistency is in this story?**

What?

**You haven't lived in Ivan's house for over a year. Yet, this news story, with the hostages, occurred only a week ago.**

Oh... I see.

So why was I there?

**And **_**that**_** is exactly why we're here.**

Oh.

Seems we've come full circle.

**About damn time.**

**So why were you at his house?**

I...I don't know.

**Big surprise there.**

**-man sighs-**

**You want some coffee? No? Okay. I'll be right back. You just...ponder over the meaning of life or something.**

**-chair scrapes across the floor; a door opens and closes-**

**For investigative purposes, security camera videos relating to the case have also been transposed into written form.**

**Detective:** (enters break room) Hey Sam.

_Cop:_ Mitch. Coffee? (offers him the pot)

**Detective:** Yeah, thanks. You know what I don't get? (points to a one-way mirror) That guy.

_Cop:_ Huh?

**Detective:** He lives in this house for years, finally gets his freedom from his captor, then goes back. I don't get it.

_Cop:_ Maybe he liked living there?

**Detective:** Yeah, he hinted at that yesterday, it's just... I don't know. Doesn't make sense.

_Cop:_ It takes all kind of crazy, Mitch.

**Detective:** (laughs) I know. Tell the wife I said hi, won't ya?

_Cop:_ Sure Mitch. Good luck with him.

**Detective:** (snorts and leaves)

-door opens and closes-

**Alright. Remember anything?**

No.

**The answer's 42, by the way.**

What?

**42? The meaning of life? Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy? No?****  
**

**You make my job so much harder than it should be, you know?**

I don't particularly take a liking to you, either. Don't worry.

**Why don't you take a look at this?**

**-papers slide across a table-**

Another picture?

I don't know who this man is either.

**That's alright. I wouldn't expect you to.****  
**

**His name is Nicholas Virdi. He's missing.**

And what does this man have to do with anything? It's terrible that he's missing, yes, but-

**He's also wanted by the police, which would explain why he's MIA.**

Can I ask what he did?

**Sure. He killed a woman. He was driving while intoxicated, didn't even see her. Hit and run, the bastard.**

That's... horrific.

**Isn't it? Poor girl. She was young, too. Died instantly. At least she didn't suffer.**

...can I ask again what this has to do with me?

**This is the girl.**

Ugh... she's...

**Dead? Yeah. The coroner took that picture.**

Why are you-

Oh, I think I'm going to be sick...

**...don't you dare throw up on my floor.**

I'll try to control the urge...

Who is-was- she?

**Why don't you tell me?**

Right. My interview. Not yours. You ask the questions, not me.

**You're finally starting to understand.**

I honestly can't tell what she looks like, though. There's... not much left of her.  
**  
****Done looking?**

**Yeah, it's pretty horrific. But I didn't show you this to make you have nightmares.****  
**  
I don't have-

**I wanted to see if the picture struck up any memories.**

Why would it?

**You know her. Knew her. No, wait... yeah, knew; she's dead.**

What?

**I'm not here to spoon feed you.**

Then what the hell _do_ you want?

**You to recollect something from the past week, that way we can put this bastard Ivan away and close this case!**

...I thought Ivan was dead?

**Well, yeah. We want to metaphorically put him away. Put his soul away. We want- why am I explaining this to you? It's not revenant.**

And that all relies on me recognizing this dead girl?

**It sure as hell wouldn't hurt!**

Look, all I remember is finding that damn letter in my book, okay? Then I went to Ivan's house, saw everyone else there, and-

**...and what?**

…**Holy mother of Jesus... Did you remember something?**

Shhhhh...

We all were there. And no one could figure out what was going on.

Ivan said he wanted to talk to us. About... coming back together. We panicked... No one wanted to live with him all over again.

We ran for the door, but he blocked it off.

And she was there, too. The pretty girl.

**She was helping him?**

She had a knife. Wouldn't let us pass. So, yeah. I guess she was helping.

**What happened next?**

I...don't remember. I think I tried to make a run for it. Then something hit me on the back of the head...

**-man sighs-**

What? Am I boring you?

_**No**_**. It's just the classic story. 'I got hit on the back of the head, and now I can't remember anything'.**

...I'm sorry.

**Anything else?**

No. That's it.

**Alright. You were called to Ivan's house, he talked to you, you tried to run, and then it goes blank?**

Pretty much.

**Do you remember how long you stayed at his house?**

A day?

**Try a week. He kept you all locked up in the basement.**

Why?

**...You're not supposed to-**

Ask the questions, right, I know.

**-phone beeps-  
**  
**Hmm...**

What?

**Can I ask you something?**

Well this _is_ an interrogation.

**Don't get smart with me. How open would you be to hypnosis?**

Excuse me?

**Look, let me be frank; you're our last hope. Katyusha's mentally insane, Raivs is missing, and Eduard...creeps me out, actually. You're the only person that can help us out here.**

I'm the only one that can tell you what happened at Ivan's?

**Help us Toris-won-kanobi. You're our only hope.****  
**

**Star Wars reference. You didn't catch?... Oh, never mind.**

I'll do whatever you want. Can I just ask one question?

**Shoot.**

Who's this... this dead girl?

**Stop asking me that.**

Stop avoiding the answer.

**I'm not a bad guy, Toris. Don't make me out to be one.**

Don't drink so much coffee. It stunts you growth.

**...I really don't like you.**

...The feeling is mutual.

* * *

Good God. That detective bloke is starting to take after me.  
Consider this my Christmas gift to you all. Merry Christmas to you all!


End file.
